gone to bed.
“I’d like to ask a favor,” April said.
“Name it.”
Kittridge felt her body tense just slightly. “Did I mention I was a virgin?”
Despite himself, he laughed; and yet this did not seem wrong. “Now, I think I’d remember something like that.”
“Yeah, well. There haven’t been what you’d call a lot of men in my life.” She paused, then said, “I wasn’t lying about being eighteen, you know. Not that it matters. I don’t think this is a world where stuff like that means much anymore.”
Kittridge nodded. “I guess maybe it doesn’t.”
“So what I’m saying is, it doesn’t have to be any big thing.”
“It’s always a big thing.”
April wrapped his hand with her fingers, slowly brushing her thumb over the tops of his knuckles. The sensation was as light and warm as a kiss. “It’s funny. Even before I saw your scars, I knew what you were. Not just the Army—that was obvious to everyone. That something had happened to you, in the war.” A pause, then: “I don’t think I even know your first name.”
“It’s Bernard.”
She pulled away to look at him. Her eyes were moist and shining. “Please, Bernard. Just please, okay?”
It was not a request that could be refused; nor did he want to. They used one of the adjacent tents—who knew where its occupants had gone? Kittridge was out of practice but did his best to be kind, to go slow, watching April’s face carefully in the dim light. She made a few sounds, but not many, and when it was done she kissed him, long and tenderly, nestled against him, and soon was fast asleep.
Kittridge lay in the dark, listening to her breathe, feeling her warmth where their bodies touched. He’d thought it might be strange but it wasn’t strange at all; it seemed a natural part of all that had occurred. His thoughts drifted, touching down here and there. The better memories; the memories of love. He didn’t have many. Now he had another. How foolish he’d been, wanting to give away this life.
He had just closed his eyes when from beyond the gate came a roar of engines and a flare of headlights. April was stirring beside him. He dressed quickly and parted the flaps as he heard, coming from the west, a roll of thunder. Wouldn’t you know they’d be leaving in the rain.
“Are they here?” Rubbing his eyes, Pastor Don was emerging from the tent. Wood was behind him.
Kittridge nodded. “Get your gear, everybody. It’s time.”
Where the hell was Suresh?
Nobody had seen the man for hours. One minute he was supposed to be examining Grey; the next he’d vanished into thin air. Guilder had sent Masterson to search for him. Twenty minutes later, he’d come back empty- handed. Suresh was nowhere in the building, he said.
Their first defection, Guilder thought. A crack like that would widen. Where could the man hope to get to? They were in the middle of a cornfield, night was pressing down. The days had passed in futility. Still they had failed to isolate the virus, to draw it forth from the cells. There was no doubt that Grey was infected; the man’s enlarged thymus told them so. But the virus itself seemed to be hiding. Hiding! Those were Nelson’s words. How could a virus be hiding? Just fucking find it, Guilder said. We’re running out of time.
Guilder was spending more of his time on the roof, drawn to its sense of space. Past midnight once again, and here he was. Sleep was only a memory. No sooner would he drift off than he would jolt awake, the walls of his throat closing in. The seventy-two-hour deadline had come and gone, Nelson only raising his eyebrows:
From the rooftop, Guilder had watched the Army’s ranks diminishing over the days. How far away were the virals? How much time did they have?
His handheld buzzed at his waist. Nelson.
“You better come see this.”
Nelson met him at the door of the elevator. He was wearing a dirty lab coat, his hair askew. He handed Guilder a sheaf of paper.
“What am I looking at?”
Nelson’s face was grim. “Just read.”
DEPARTMENT OF THE ARMY
U.S. CENTRAL COMMAND
7115 SOUTH BOUNDARY BOULEVARD
MACDILL AFB, FL 33621-5101
010500JUN16
USCENTCOM OPERATION ORDER—IMMACULATA
REFERENCES: EXECUTIVE ORDER 929621, 1st HL Recon BDE OPORD 18–26, Map Sheet V107
TASK ORGANIZATION: Joint Task Force (JTF) SCORCH, including elements of: 388th Fighter Wing (388 FW), 23rd Fighter Group (23 FG), 62nd Homeland Aerial Defense Group (62 HADG), Colorado Army National Guard (CO ANG), Kansas Army National Guard (KS ANG), Nebraska Army National Guard (NE ANG), and Iowa Army National Guard (IA ANG)
1. SITUATION
a. Enemy Strength: Unknown, +/- 200K
b. Terrain: Mixture of high plains/grasslands/urban
c. Weather: Variable conditions, moderate day visibility, limited night visibility, low to no moonlight
d. Enemy Situation: As of 010500JUN16, 763 infected person groups (“pods”) observed massed in Designated Areas 1–26. Enemy movement expected immediately following sunset (2116).
2. MISSION
JTF SCORCH conducts combat operations from 012100JUN16 through 052400JUN17 within designated Quarantine Zone in order to destroy all infected persons.
3. EXECUTION
Intent: JTF will conduct air and ground combat operations within Quarantine Zone. Priority task for JTF SCORCH is elimination of all infected personnel within Quarantine Zone.
Concept of the Operation: This will be a two-phase operation:
PHASE 1: JTF deploys tactical air units of the 388 FW, 23 FG, and 62 HADG 012100JUN16 to conduct massed bombing of Designated Areas 1–26. PHASE 1 complete with 100% bombing saturation of Quarantine Zone. PHASE 2 will commence immediately following PHASE 1 complete.
PHASE 2: JTF will deploy 3 Mechanized Infantry Divisions from tactical ground units of the CO ANG, KS ANG, NE ANG, IA ANG to conduct free-fire assaults on remaining enemy forces within Designated Areas 1–26. PHASE 2 complete with 100% infected personnel destroyed within Quarantine Zone.
It went on from there: logistics, tactical, command, and signal. The bureaucratese of war. The upshot was clear: anyone behind the quarantine line was now forfeit.
“Jesus.”
